


Just For Now

by sleepfight



Series: Enter The De Sardetverse [2]
Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepfight/pseuds/sleepfight
Summary: When the door slams at a quarter to midnight and is not immediately followed by a boisterous greeting, Percy can sense at once that something is amiss.
Relationships: Male De Sardet/Male De Sardet, Percy/Percy - Relationship
Series: Enter The De Sardetverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582057
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Just For Now

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for [Envyfelled](https://envyfelled.tumblr.com/) whom frequently spoils me with beautiful art and who also happens to have a DS named Percy! He's drawn some [very cute art of our boys being sweet together](https://envyfelled.tumblr.com/post/189622442176/everyone-trying-to-get-a-piece-of-sleepfights-ds) so I wanted to return the favor with some nice, gentle fluff. Also because I am just forever in love with his DS.
> 
> For the sake of clarity, "Percy" will refer to my DS (big, burly teddybear man) and "Percival" will refer to his DS (dazzling, emotional goblin man) but both go by Percy generally. 
> 
> Title is from [one of my favorite mushy songs](https://youtu.be/5yBBaK1vGh4) by one of my favorite singers of all time.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

When the door slams at a quarter to midnight and is not immediately followed by a boisterous greeting, Percy can sense at once that something is amiss. He listens for the sharp clinking of armor being shed followed by the deadbolt sliding into place before he sets his book on the coffee table and makes his way downstairs, leaning against the banister to watch as Percival struggles to get his dress shoes untied.

"You're late," he says mildly. "I was about to call for a messenger to see where you were."

Percival gives the laces of his shoes a frustrated tug, the knot refusing to come undone. "You know where I was," he says, equally deadpan. He finally manages to get the first shoe off and starts on the second.

Percy frowns. "I didn't think you'd be there this late."

"Neither did I."

Percival gives up on unlacing the shoe and settles for just forcing it off of his foot, kicking it away unceremoniously to sit beside its twin. He straightens up and pulls the knot of his cravat down, giving Percy a quick peck on the cheek as he pushes past him to get into the next room. Percy's frown deepens and he follows him.

"We were supposed to have dinner tonight," he says. He truthfully isn't that worried about missing one date; they have been together for far too long for him to stress the small things anymore, but Percival's odd behavior is bothering him. "What happened?"

Percival sinks down onto the couch and scrubs a hand down his face, fixing a tired gaze on Percy. "Nothing happened," he slumps back, kneading at his temples. "Which is exactly the problem."

Percy sighs and sits down beside him. "I don't suppose I even need to ask how the treaty conference is going then."

Percival shakes his head, sliding sideways until his shoulders knock into Percy's and his chest heaves with a long sigh. "Terribly. It's going terribly. Everyone seems content to simply shout and lay blame at the feet of their peers. There was so much arguing today, we went into overtime and argued some more. I've been running messages between diplomats, breaking up fights, and trying to convince the _mals_ that we are not wasting their breath. I've been on my feet all day." 

He closes his eyes and grimaces. "Cooperation is at a standstill, nothing is getting accomplished and everyone is blaming me for it. I would have much rather been getting dinner, trust me, but I spent the last two hours getting dressed down by Hikmet’s new governor about how I'm not doing enough."

Percy shifts closer to him and rests a hand on his knee. "They can't blame you for it. You've been more willing to cooperate than anyone."

Percival shakes his head. "This whole conference was my idea. Anything that goes wrong is immediately my fault." He groans and rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Stars above, I've such a fucking headache."

Without pause, Percy slips an arm around the smaller man's shoulders and gently tugs him to lay down in his lap, bringing his hands forward to rest on either side of Percival’s angular face.

"You're doing a great job," he murmurs. He brushes his fingers through his dark brown hair, gingerly cupping the back of Percival's head, and starts to rub slow circles against his scalp, just a light caress to help soothe his temper. "They can't place all this on your shoulders when no one else has been willing to meet you halfway."

Percival allows his eyes to fall shut and exhales slowly, leaning into Percy's touch. "It's just such a drain on my spirit, especially with how little progress we're actually making. I'm frustrated."

Percy nods and slides his hands down Percival's neck. "I know you are, love. You just have to make it until the end of the week." He sweeps his thumbs back to place gentle pressure behind Percival's ears while his knuckles work the tense knots in his shoulders. "Negotiations will have to start eventually. You just have to let them fight it out for a bit."

Percival makes a face and turns his head to one side to give Percy more warm skin to touch. "I hate wasting time," he grumbles.

Smiling, Percy combs Percival's hair back. "Only when it's important," he leans down and presses his lips to his forehead. "Have you eaten at all?"

Percival sighs loudly. "Not since breakfast."

Ignoring Percival's groan of protest when Percy sits him up, he pats the other man's shoulder and stands. "There’s still some stew left over from supper tonight, I’ll put it on the fire to warm up." 

He bows his much larger frame and smacks a loud, wet kiss to Percival's ear. "Go run a bath. I'll meet you upstairs."

Percival stares up at him from the couch, eyes twinkling. "You're being especially affectionate," he smirks. "What's the occasion?"

Smirking, Percy holds out his elbow for Percival to take and helps him to his feet, leading him in the direction of the stairs. "I'm not allowed to dote?" He follows him as far as the hall. "You had a bad day; I'm well within my right to be understanding of that. And besides…" 

He playfully swats Percival's rear as he begins to climb the stairs. "I like it when you're progressive."

"I'll try to work in something about land restoration efforts next time I talk dirty to you," Percival laughs from the landing, his voice trailing behind him as he makes his way to the washroom.

Percy shakes his head and goes to the kitchen, stirring the coals in the hearth before going to collect the remaining soup from the icebox and pouring it into a pot that he hangs over the low flame. When he’s sure the fire won’t go out, he places a lid on the pot and goes to join Percival upstairs.

He doesn't bother to knock and is honestly surprised when he enters the washroom and finds Percival still completely clothed, bent over the sink and brushing his teeth. Behind him, the complex tap of their new Bridge Alliance bathtub is on full blast, filling the deep tub with steaming hot water, and a stack of fresh towels are waiting on a rack by the wall, still untouched. Percy shakes his head and closes the door.

"I can't even trust you to run the bath," he admonishes lightly. He grins at Percival's dramatic, pout and reaches across him to grab a glass jar from the cabinet. He unscrews the cap and presents the container with a flourish. 

"Bath salt," he explains. "Of the lavender, foaming variety, courtesy of Petrus if you can believe that." He shakes a handful of the fragrant granules into the water and immediately the bathroom begins to fill with floral steam.

Percival spits into the sink and chuckles, winking at Percy. "Such a sensualist."

"You'll thank me for it later," Percy says, elbowing him in the ribs after stripping off his own shirt shirt and vest.

He waits until Percival finishes rinsing his mouth before he closes the space between them and slides his large hands up the front of Percival's tunic, easily unbuttoning it as he goes, and unties his cravat when he reaches the collar. 

"You should have waited to brush your teeth, dinner is reheating," he scolds as he lifts Percival's shirt off and tosses it into the hamper. He drops his hand and smoothly undoes Percival's belt. "It should be ready soon."

Percival settles a hand on Percy's lower back, grinning. "I hope you don't have any ulterior motives," he says as they both slip out of their trousers. "Because truly, I am utterly drained and would hate to wound your pride by falling asleep mid-coitus."

Both naked now, Percy takes him by the wrist and pulls him to the bathtub, stepping into the bubbly water and beckoning for him to do the same. 

"No ulterior motives," he promises as Percival joins him, sinking into the sweet scented foam and sighing deeply. Percy twists the tap off and slides in behind him until Percival’s back is flush with his broad chest. He bows his head and gently mouths at the tender joint of his neck. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

He pulls back, grabs a soft, white cloth from the rack beside them and dunks it into the water, shifting slightly so that he can wring it out over Percival's muscular shoulders. 

"So then, has any progress been made at all?" He asks. "I can't imagine that everyone was just bickering the entire time." He gently begins to scrub at Percival's back, working the soapy water into a thick lather that he hopes will cleanse him of some of the troubles he’s carried home.

"No, that's about it," Percival sighs, slumping forward loosely, eyes fluttering closed. "The Bridge and Thélème were at each other’s throats all day. The Nauts seem to be trying, but most of the propositions they’ve brought revolve around trade relations and little else. I am sure it is only by Siora’s good graces that the tribes are even willing to hear us out at this point." 

He groans lowly in the back of his throat when Percy replaces the rag with his hands and starts to stroke his fingers up and down Percival's spine, a crop of goosebumps blooming on the skin of his arms as he does. 

"Hells, that feels good. My back was killing me."

Percy smiles to himself and pushes his palms into Percival's lower back until it cracks and Percival breathes out in relief. "I could tell." He says.

"You could?"

"You were walking with your hands in your pockets," Percy says simply. "You always walk with your hands in your pockets when your back hurts. It makes you hunch like a gremlin." He moves his hands up and starts to knead the other man's shoulders, frowning at how tense and rigid Percival feels. He pauses to kiss the back of his neck.

“An important, smart, wonderful gremlin,” he amends quietly.

After a few minutes where Percy massages his sore back in comfortable silence, Percival sighs deeply and leans back against Percy, allowing the other to slide his arms around his narrow waist and rest his chin on Percival's wet shoulder. 

"What about you?" He asks as Percy slides his hands slowly up and down Percival’s chest and belly, absently tracing his fingertips through the soapy swirls of dark body hair, over his scars, new and old. "You were off this afternoon, weren’t you?"

Percy nods. "I picked up a new novel and spent a bit of time getting reacquainted with my violin." He cranes his neck around and kisses Percival's cheek. "Much more interesting than anything you did today, I’m sure."

Percival rolls his eyes and flicks water at Percy’s grinning face. "Oh, well, thank heavens _one_ of us did not end his day in a murderous rage."

Laughing, Percy smooths Percival’s wet hair flat and gives him one last big squeeze around his middle. "I need to go pull the pot off the fire," he says.

Percival nods and sits up. "I'll go get changed. I’ll be down in a minute to set the table."

Percy catches his hand and shakes his head. "Why don't I just bring it up to the bedroom tonight?"

Percival's unruly eyebrows go up. "You want to eat in the bedroom?"

"You already look like you’ll fall over if left unattended," he teases. “Might as well put you somewhere with a soft landing.”

"All right, that does it," Percival stands up and out of the tub, planting his hands on his soapy hips and dripping water all over the rug. "I have decided that you are forbidden from your own duties. Going forward, being a considerate lover to me is your full-time job. We’ll inform the Congregation of your retirement on the next ship back to the continent."

Percy pulls the plug on the drain, stands as well, and throws a towel at him. "Oh, be quiet,” he laughs. “Just go get into your pajamas and pick out something for me to read to you."

As he crosses the floor to the wardrobe, Percival glances back at Percy with interest. “That sounds nice," he hums. He pulls a robe for each of them out of a drawer and hands one to Percy, who takes it gratefully. "I do have a new book I borrowed from Vasco if that is agreeable to you?"

Percy quickly towels off and slips into his robe. "Anything you’d like, love."

Percival flashes him a thumbs up before exiting the bathroom and padding down the hall to their bedroom. Percy rinses the remaining suds out of the bath and hangs up his towel, pocketing a small sachet of pain-relieving herbs from the cabinet before he snuffs the lantern and returns to the kitchen. Over the fire, he cracks open the pot lid and checks the stew. It’s plenty warm so he pulls it out and sets it on the table to cool for moment, filling two glasses with cold water and placing them on a silver tray with bowls while he waits. After dishing out portions for himself and Percival, he loads everything together and balances it carefully in his hand.

By the time he’s made it upstairs again, Percival has slid into bed with a heavy, leather-bound book in his lap. Percy sits down beside him and sets the tray down, fixing a bemused stare on Percival when he sees the embossed title on the spine.

"Love sonnets?"

Percival points the book at him. "I will hear no comments from the peanut gallery. You said I could choose anything." He leans back and crosses his arms over his bare chest, huffing. "And don’t pretend that you aren’t just as taken by saccharine declarations of longing, or need I remind you of the Cartwright incident? I’ve never seen a man so inconsolable."

Careful of the laden tray, Percy shoves him over and scoots in beside him under the covers with a laugh. Once he’s gotten comfortable, he pulls the tray closer and hands a glass of water to Percival along with a pinch of the herbs to ease any lingering aches. 

"I'm not complaining," he says lightly, watching Percival place the herbs under his tongue with a grimace. "I just think you’re sweet."

Percival rolls his eyes, but smiles with a flush of pink on his cheek and takes the bowl of stew Percy offers him.

They eat in easy comfort, alternating between reciting poems and griping about the conference until the tray is empty and Percival is curled up under the blankets with his head in Percy's lap. Percy absently strokes his hair with one hand, the other holding open the book, and reads to him quietly as the fire burns down to embers. 

It's well past a reasonable hour by the time Percival goes heavy and still in the bend of his arm and Percy leans over to extinguish the bedside lamp. Percival makes a sleepy noise of displeasure when Percy has to shift them both to lie down, disturbing Percival from his dozing as he does, and drops an arm over his waist, tucking his head into the crook of Percy's neck.

Once they have resettled, legs and arms tangled together beneath the blankets, Percival presses a light kiss to Percy's lips. "Thank you, Percy," he mumbles blearily, voice thick with sleep. "I really appreciate it. And you."

Percy sighs deeply and returns the kiss with just as much sleepy gentleness. "Don't mention it." He says into the darkness and runs a teasing finger down the bridge of Percival's nose. "You can pay me back in the morning by indulging in those ulterior motives I wasn’t allowed to have tonight."

Percival chuckles lowly and draws him in closer, hugging him tight. “You’re the worst,” he murmurs, barely audible under the gravel of fatigue. “I love you.”

"I love you too, now go to sleep."

A soft snore against Percy’s shoulder; he already has. 

_end_


End file.
